Reverse Psychology
by Hanako A
Summary: Originally Hermione had been pleased when her father made his peace with her best friends. That was before they joined forces to put a damper on her love life.
1. Chapter 1

**Reverse Psychology**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine. If they were, I would be busy rewriting the epilogue, not writing fanfiction. :D

* * *

A resounding crash woke Ginny from her dream. She scrambled out of bed and grabbed her wand before she rushed out the bedroom door without stopping to throw on a dressing gown. She crept stealthily towards the kitchen where the crash had originated from. Ginny supposed a bit of Harry's paranoia had rubbed off on her. Although there hadn't been any attacks by dark wizards in ages, her heart felt as though it was about to beat through her chest as she kept her eyes open for any sign of an intruder.

The kitchen lights were on. Ginny tightly grasped her wand, ready to hex anyone she did not recognize. She took a breath to steady herself. Feeling prepared to deal with anything, she marched into the kitchen.

Where she found her flat mate, Hermione Granger, perched on top of the worktop as she ate ice cream directly from the carton. That was most unlike her, as she was the sort to insist on not eating from the container. Her wand was lying right next to her, clearly having been used only moments before to charm the broom and the dustpan that was cleaning up a couple of broken bowls on the floor.

"Sorry," her friend said, looking sheepish. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Well you did," Ginny replied more harshly than she intended. She rolled her eyes. "And from a rather pleasant dream at that."

Hermione pointed her spoon at Ginny. "Stop right there. I really don't want to hear about another one of your dreams about Harry."

That earned her another roll of the eyes from Ginny as the other witch moved to stand in front of her. "You've become a right prude in your old age. I used to be able to tell you anything."

"That was before I lost all hope of you outgrowing your habit of over-sharing. Honestly! I did not need to know the specifics of how Harry likes his blowjobs! Of course, I threatened to hex you. Anyone would. Ron agreed with me on that one there. He said that it would be perfectly justified for me to hit you with a year of silence jinx and even asked that I cast one on Harry as well."

"What did Harry say?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Nothing. He wisely kept his mouth shut."

"That's disappointing. So much for having a boyfriend credited with saving the world if he can't be bothered to defend my honor when I'm not present."

Hermione snorted. "Saving the world is one thing. When I showed up that night, poor Ron looked ready to murder Harry. Seems that you're not the only one who has a problem with over-sharing." She rolled her eyes as she took another bite. "I really felt sorry for Ron after I learned what he had been through before I got there. He made me promise that I would never be late for another one of our get-togethers ever again."

Ginny flushed. "Oh that. That was my idea. I thought perhaps if you and Ron had something to commiserate over…"

"Horrible idea. You shouldn't have done that. Ron had trouble enough accepting that you were in a—shall we say an adult relationship?—with Harry. Having Harry give him all the details…it makes me wonder if you're really all that fond of either your boyfriend or your brother. Next time you need a cunning plan, you had best come to me," Hermione informed her with a snotty little shake of her head.

"Stop that. You're not allowed to mock me like that, not after you woke me up from one of the best dreams I've had in ages. Which was about me replacing that prick Sanders as the first string Seeker for my team, I'll have you know. I don't only dream about Harry."

"Since when?" Hermione crammed a large spoon full of ice cream into her mouth.

"Since always! Merlin! Something has turned you into a bit of a shrew tonight. What's to blame?" asked Ginny.

"Bad night out," Hermione replied succinctly.

"If I have a habit of over-sharing, you have the equally bad habit of keeping all the good details to yourself." Ginny pulled up a kitchen chair and plunked herself down. "Go on. Share. You were supposed to go out with Seamus tonight, right?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "He had planned a lovely night out at our favorite restaurant. Unfortunately, your brother and your boyfriend showed up."

"Oh dear," Ginny interjected.

"With my father in tow," Hermione added. She sighed deeply and returned to finishing off her ice cream.

"Ouch. I wouldn't have expected that."

"No," Hermione agreed, "seeing how it was a wizarding restaurant and all." She took another large spoonful, taking her time to really savor the taste, which led Ginny to conclude that she must be running low.

"Can't say that I blame you then for needing the comfort of some ice cream tonight." A thought occurred to Ginny. "Hang on. That's not the one I bought you're eating, is it?"

Hermione sneered at her, before holding the carton up so Ginny could see the label. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione was eating the nasty sugar-free, fat-free junk that she called ice cream. Ginny marveled at her flat mate's ability to scarf it down without gagging.

"Good," said Ginny. "I can forgive you for waking me up, but not for finishing off the normal stuff that I buy."

"Because that would be the worst sin a flat mate could commit," Hermione said snidely.

"Exactly. And might I add that I don't see how that can count as comfort food when all the comforting elements have been removed from it." Ginny's opinion was roundly ignored by her friend as usual. Hermione never did listen when anyone tried to get her to eat normal food. At least, Ginny reflected, Hermione wasn't going on about how she was raised on sugar-free treats and how they were so much healthier. She decided it was best to move on.

"So what did the favorite men in your life do this time?" asked Ginny. She was burning with curiosity. It must have been bad if Hermione was upset enough to gorge herself the way she was doing right now.

"The usual," Hermione said with a wave of her hand. "They invited themselves to sit down, and my dad remarked how Seamus couldn't be much of a man if he hadn't dared meet my parents yet. Never mind that we were going to have dinner with them tomorrow night…"

"Going to? You're not any more?" Years of knowing Hermione had taught Ginny how to pick up on the subtle inferences in the other witch's conversation.

"Well I am. He's not. It looks like I'll be by myself for the picnic your mum's got planned for Saturday too. Harry started reminiscing on how Seamus used to be rather suspicious and distrusting of him. Mind you this is from back in fifth year and only at the start of it, at that." She rolled her eyes. "You know how Harry gets when he's feeling particularly paranoid. Seamus bailed out when Harry began to wave his wand along with his hands while talking. When I got home, there was an owl waiting for me from him saying that he thinks it best that we call it off." Hermione leaped up from her seat and began to pace around the kitchen as she ranted to Ginny while somehow still finding the time to continue eating. "Honestly! Is it too much to ask that they meet the wizards I'm seeing with an open mind?"

"They just want to make sure that whoever you're seeing is good enough for you," said Ginny soothingly. She would have tried to pat the other witch on the back, but she was afraid that might make Hermione choke.

"Please. Their standards are too high. There's no wizard out there who is good enough for me if you go by what they think. Did you know that my father actually had the gall to ask one of my old boyfriends if he was a eunuch? And when the poor thing didn't answer, he said that he would let Harry and Ron continue the interrogation? And those prats began rolling up their sleeves and talking about needing to take this one outside! Honestly!" Hermione stomped her foot. "And I rather liked Seamus too, you know. He was a good bloke to have fun with."

"Not to mention the fact that you sort of have a thing for wizards with accents."

"Do not!"

"Do too! I can't blame you for Seamus. His brogue is rather charming, isn't it? So was Oliver Wood's. And you can't argue that Viktor Krum didn't have an accent, Herm-own-ninny."

Hermione shuddered. "Stop that. I thought I put that particular mangling of my name behind me."

"I'm your friend. I won't let you forget it." Ginny smiled as she thought of a remark that would cheer Hermione up. "And last but not least, let's not forget my brother. He speaks the dialect generally referred to as 'stupid prat'."

Ginny's smile was answered by one appearing on Hermione's face. "Yes, I suppose he is," she said. "That must be why he gets along so well with my dad and Harry. They're all stupid prats."

"Yes, yes, of course," said Ginny dismissively. "Though I must say, I have to agree with them in this instance. If Seamus was put off by one of Harry's rants—and it must have been a milder one at that if you weren't all thrown out of the restaurant—then he really isn't good enough for you."

Hermione's spoon hit the bottom of the carton at the exact moment Ginny finished her remark. She threw up her hands in frustration, letting the empty container fall to the floor. "That is it! I expect sympathy from you, not to hear that you agree with those fools," Hermione exclaimed, glowering at her flat mate. "Just for that, I am getting out yours and finishing it off too!"

Ginny gaped at her friend as Hermione lunged for the freezer. She finally went into action when Hermione started rummaging around for the good ice cream she had bought. She tried to pull the other witch away from the freezer, knowing that Hermione wasn't the sort to make idle threats. Unfortunately, she wound up pushing Hermione back to the spot where her wand had been left, and then the struggle was really on.

The bowls Hermione broke earlier weren't the only casualties of the night.

* * *

Hermione grimaced as she stepped into the lift. She silently promised herself that one day she would hunt down the person responsible for the brilliant idea to line the damn thing with mirrors. Hermione knew she looked awful. Anyone would after having a bloody terrible evening like she did last night. She didn't need to look at a damn mirror at the start of her day to figure that one out. Thankfully the mirrors weren't the magical sort, otherwise Hermione would have been stuck with decades of bad luck from smashing them all in. Magical mirrors were like clockwork when it came to making snide remarks about her appearance.

Though when it came to her love life, Hermione was already serving out a sentence for bad luck. For what transgression, she didn't know, but her relationships never lasted more than a couple of months. Inevitably, she would have to introduce the poor sod to her parents, and then the trouble would really start. It was bad enough back when it was only her father who would scare away all her suitors. Now that her best friends were acting as the brothers she never wanted, it was a small miracle that Hermione could even find a wizard brave enough to go out with her.

Originally Hermione had been happy when her father had finally made his peace with her friends. She remembered that moment well; she and Ron had called it quits, having come to the conclusion that they were better off as friends. At dinner, her dad had bonded with Harry and Ron as her both of best friends declared that they felt as though she was the older sister they never had. That was a good memory. What wasn't a good memory was when she introduced Oliver Wood to her parents a couple months later. Both of her best friends had shown up, and between them and her father, they had given Oliver hell.

She sighed. Ever since that night, all the wizards she started seeing met a similar fate. The alliance to keep Hermione innocent and pure for the rest of her life by scaring off all the wizards she meets because she won't let us send her off to a convent was still in full force to this day. Her mum had tried to intervene on her behalf several times but to no avail. When those three got together, they all lost what little sense they had to begin with.

Hermione stifled a yawn as the doors opened, the lift having arrived on the floor that her office was on. She trotted out and headed right, nodding to a couple of the reporters she was friendly with. It was funny, when she thought about it, the directions life could take. She would have never expected to work for the Daily Prophet, given her interactions with the newspaper in her younger years. Initially Hermione had started out working at the Ministry after the war. Time and time again, however, she ran into unnecessary roadblocks whenever she tried to introduce a policy change. Fed up with such bureaucratic nonsense, she fled to become a reporter with the Daily Prophet, where she specialized in skewering the Ministry at every turn. It was a job only Hermione could do. Her best friend was in line to eventually become the next head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and she personally knew the Minister of Magic. She didn't really have to worry too much about efforts to silence her. Finally Hermione was beginning to feel that she was making a difference; if she wasn't making things change, then at least she was putting a large spotlight on various problems that Wizarding World had ignored for far too long. With Hermione as one of its star reporters, the Daily Prophet was no longer the Ministry's mouthpiece.

That, in and of itself, was an accomplishment Hermione was proud of. She reminded herself of that fact whenever she was waylaid by another reporter looking for information about one of her friends. The connections that kept her safe from reprisal also made her a target of her co-workers, particularly those working on the gossip column. Thankfully they did not work on the same floor as her, and Hermione also had a secretary capable of keeping those twits at bay.

"Good morning," her secretary chirped as she walked through the door. Hermione winced. That was the bad thing about Evie, her secretary. She was always chipper in the mornings. Normally Hermione didn't mind that, as she was a morning person herself, but sometimes Evie was a tad much when Hermione was feeling under the weather

"Good morning, Evie," Hermione replied. She looked at the door to her personal office and frowned. She didn't remember setting any appointments until later today when she was supposed to have her first meeting with an annoying prat she could no longer avoid. "Did I have a meeting scheduled this early?"

"Your eleven o'clock dropped by early," Evie answered. "He said that something came up and so he decided to stop by first thing this morning to see if you could fit him in."

"Lovely. Just what I wanted to hear." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Sorry you had to deal with him so early."

"No worries. You didn't have any other meetings scheduled this early in the morning so I showed him in to your office and told him that you should be here shortly."

Hermione groaned. "Oh that will be the perfect start to the day."

"Oh I know!" Her secretary leaned forward in her chair and gestured for Hermione to come closer excitedly. "He is quite fit, isn't he? Is that why you had him scheduled so close to your lunch hour originally? Hoping that perhaps your meeting would run late." She winked at Hermione broadly. "Can't say I blame you for trying."

"You young lady have been reading too many of the wrong sort of novels," Hermione said sternly. "And looks aren't everything. I'll have you know that wizard in there has a personality as charming as that of a blast-ended skrewt." With that, she marched in to her office, ready to face her doom.

"Malfoy," she said frostily. She walked over to her chair and sat down.

"Good morning to you too, Granger," the pale, blond wizard replied. "I see that your manners haven't improved over the years."

"And I see that you're still avoiding the sun like the plague. Tell me, are there any vampires in your vaunted family tree?"

"Pleasant as always. It's times like these when I wonder why I didn't seek out your help sooner." He paused. "Oh wait, that's right, I did but someone always said that she was too busy. Your head has grown ever since leaving the Ministry, now hasn't it?"

Hermione clenched her jaw. "The reason why I wasn't able to pencil you in earlier was because I simply do not have time to sit down with you just so you can insult everything about me."

"But I haven't done that." Malfoy was handsome, and his smile was simply gorgeous, but it would take a man much more handsome than him to make Hermione forget the history between them. "I simply remarked upon the rather abbreviated greeting you gave me."

Hermione sighed. It was true that she was the one who had started being unpleasant. It was also true that Malfoy had appeared to change after the war. Every year, he consistently led his peers when it came to donating to Wizarding charities. He had even started a fund to provide for widows and children of Aurors who died in the line of duty. Hermione had been horrified to find out that the Ministry made no provision for an Auror's family, and she would have never known of their plight if Malfoy hadn't highlighted it the way he had. She took another deep breath. If she was completely honest with herself, putting off this meeting was her way of putting off accepting the fact that it was time she gave Malfoy a second chance.

"I'm sorry," she said tersely. "It hasn't been the best of mornings, so it cuts against the grain for me to call it good."

"I'll accept your apology if you will accept mine for having to change our meeting time without any notice," he said, inclining his head gracefully at her. She nodded in response. "Very well then. Shall we get down to business?"

"Yes of course." She glanced over at him. "Should I consider this on the record or off the record?" she asked.

"Off the record for now, please."

"I'll still need to take notes," she said slowly. "I will not reveal anything you tell me but…"

He waved her concerns aside. "Frankly, Granger, if you chose not to take notes, then I would know that you weren't taking me seriously, and I would be leaving shortly. The issue of various Ministry departments being so open to outside influences is too important to—"

"Hang on. Do you mean to tell me the whole point of this meeting is so you can complain about Ministry officials continuing to take bribes? That's ludicrous! I happen to know that your father—"

"You would do well to remember that I am not my father." He leaned forward in his seat as he fixed his stare upon Hermione. A shiver ran down Hermione's spine. The cold, steel gray of his eyes conveyed that Malfoy intended to be taken seriously at all costs.

"No, I am not my father," he continued, "and I do not hold with many of his beliefs or practices. In any case, I was not alluding to the sort of petty bribery my father indulged in. He merely bribed officials to keep our family out of trouble and to ensure his investments paid off. I was referring to the systematic bribery engaged by one particular department in the Ministry to stop other departments from interfering in their business or even knowing what it is they do."

"I'm sorry. You've lost me there. Could you try being a little less cryptic please?"

"I see. Let's try another approach. Which department would you say is in charge of all the rest?' he asked.

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, of course," she replied.

"I would say it's the Department of Mysteries. Because there is no oversight whatsoever of said department."

Hermione's brow furrowed as she pieced together what he had said. "Are you saying that the Department of Mysteries has been arranging things so that no one keeps track of their experiments?"

"That is precisely what I am saying."

"Do you have any evidence?" she asked skeptically. The whole thing sounded like something the Quibbler would print. She would need solid evidence before she could write an article, much less convince her editor to put it in print.

"Precious little, outside of example after example of coincidences that benefited that department."

"Enough to start a serious investigation though?"

"Plenty," he said emphatically. He began to relate what he knew about the situation as Hermione scurried to take down what he said. Several times she stopped him in order to ask questions, although he rarely could give an answer to them. They continued in such a manner for some time, with Hermione growing more excited by the minute. Thank Merlin Malfoy had decided to come to her with this information, instead of going to someone he knew better such as Nott. Suddenly some of the more confounding decisions that had come out of the Ministry while she worked there weren't so inscrutable any more. That was especially true when Malfoy commented on how former Unspeakables had been inserted into strategic positions in every other department. Before either of them realized it, two hours had passed.

"That's all I know, I'm afraid," he said, stopping abruptly.

"What you've told me has been plenty already. You knew a lot more than you let on," said Hermione, and she was rewarded with a genuine smile from Malfoy.

"It wasn't just me," he admitted. He bent his head down as though he was feeling shy. "My parents have been involved with influencing the Ministry for years, and my mother warned me to watch out for that particular department in my own dealings with them." He paused to consider his next words. "I realize that you're under no obligation to do so, but I would appreciate it if you would keep me updated on anything else you manage to find out about this. I would be willing to help you out as necessary, in return," he offered.

"Yes, yes," she replied absently. Whenever Hermione was approached to do an investigative piece, the requester inevitably wanted to be informed of all developments. She generally complied with such requests. Her informants had already done her a favor by choosing her to give their information to; unless she had reason to suspect they had ulterior motives for wanting her to pursue an investigation, she would see them from time to time to let them know what she had discovered.

Then a brilliant idea hit her. Maybe the wizard in front of her could help her out with something else as well. "Are you busy tonight, Malfoy?" she asked hopefully.

He shook his head no, his eyes questioning what she had in mind.

"Good."

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**Author's note:** Thanks for reading. Any review you decide to leave will be cherished. :) Hopefully I'll have the next part up shortly.  



	2. Chapter 2

**Reverse Psychology**

**Disclaimer: **These characters are still not mine.

* * *

Hermione winced as Ginny pulled at her hair. "Ow! Could you try to be gentle?" she whined. 

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that you can't look good without suffering from some pain?" was Ginny's unsympathetic response. "In fact, I think that your old dorm mates Lavender and Parvati would say that how good you look is directly proportional to how much pain you put yourself through to get that way."

"If that's true, then I will happily resemble a hag for the rest of my life. Besides, Lav and Pav would never say that. They don't know what proportional means, much less the difference between being directly and indirectly proportional."

"Point taken. There! I'm finished. What do you think?"

Hermione looked at her image in the mirror. She raised a hand to touch her hair, not believing that it could look that good before stopping as she didn't want to mess it up Ginny's handiwork. It was amazing. Ginny was a genius when it came to arranging hair.

"It's perfect," Hermione said in awe.

"Thank you. I thought so myself. Now that your hair is out of your face, I can start on your make-up."

"What would I do without you?" Hermione asked rhetorically.

"Merlin only knows. Resign yourself to looking like a hag for the rest of your life, perhaps?" The two friends laughed.

"I still can't believe that you convinced Malfoy to go to dinner with you tonight. Tell me again how that happened," said Ginny as she spun Hermione around so she could work on the other witch's face.

"I think it was shock, really. He had been bothering me for an appointment as of late, saying that he wanted to bring to my attention an something he thought should be looked into. Our meeting was over for all intents and purposes when I popped the question. We had both been on our best behavior the entire time, so I think he said yes before he realized what he was agreeing to," Hermione explained.

"Or maybe he's been secretly fancying you all these years." Ginny's eyes had a wicked gleam to them.

Hermione openly scoffed at the suggestion. "I think you're forgetting you who're talking about here."

"I am not. You know what they say—little boys always tease the girls they fancy the most. And don't make faces like that unless you want to look as though you've been a test subject for my brother's shop."

Hermione rolled her eyes and then complied with Ginny's order. "Yes, ma'am," she answered sarcastically. "And trust me. It's not like that. Remember the reason why I invited him in the first place." She rubbed her hands together out of glee. "Once the alliance to put an end to my love life deals with Malfoy for an entire evening, all my future boyfriends will look like saints. I should have thought of this a long time ago."

"Close your eyes and stop talking. I'm about to spell your eyes and lips," Ginny commanded. Hermione did so and listened to Ginny murmur a series of spells under her breath. Hermione knew all the spells that Ginny was using, but somehow they turned out better for the redheaded witch than they did for her. She supposed Ginny had a natural affinity for those sorts of spells, while Hermione's talents were for more practical spells.

"And that should do it," said Ginny. "I'm done now. What do you think?"

Hermione looked at her reflection. The witch staring back at her looked lovely and composed. It was a spectacular transformation from how she looked in the morning. "Very nice," she said as she got out of her seat.

"You're damning your looks and my hard work with your faint praise again." Ginny sighed dramatically. "I'm used to it though. I do wonder what Malfoy's reaction will be once he sees you."

Hermione shrugged. "That doesn't really matter. What matters is how everyone else will react once they see him."

"Hermione, did you even tell him what was going to happen tonight? Is he in on what you hope he will do or is the poor bloke an innocent lamb to be led to the slaughter?" Ginny asked with a frown.

"No," Hermione admitted. "I thought that his reactions would be more uninhibited and visceral if it were a surprise to him. I just told him to pick me up at my place and then we would go to the restaurant. And you're comparing Malfoy to a lamb? I can't imagine anyone ever doing that before."

"Oh dear," said Ginny. "That can't be good. Is it too late to call it off? I don't think he'll appreciate—" She was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at their door.

"Merlin! Don't tell me the damn fool is early again!" Hermione swore as she rushed to the living room followed closely by her flat mate.

"Again? Is there something that you want to tell me?" asked Ginny.

"Not really. I need help finding my handbag and my shoes. Where did I put them?" Hermione bit her lip as she scoured about the living room for the missing items. "I thought I had left them both by the sofa."

Ginny sighed. "Yes, that was before someone decided that it would be a good idea to leave them by the door instead, so you could rush out the door in the faint hope that you might be the first ones at the restaurant. I know my brother and my boyfriend. They have probably been there all day planning what to do just in case Seamus decided to show up with you."

"Oh. Right. Thanks." Hermione was about to rush over to the door to answer it but stopped when her brain got around to processing the rest of what Ginny said. "Wait. Do you really think that…"

"They have spent the whole day planning for this just in case? Of course. Feeling sorry for poor Malfoy yet?"

Hermione suddenly felt uneasy under Ginny's scrutiny. She brushed that feeling aside, assuring herself that everything would work out for her in the end. "No," Hermione replied. "I'm just thinking that this couldn't go any better if I had planned it. If you'll excuse me."

"Good luck," Ginny called as she waved good-bye. "You're going to need it."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she approached the door. Clearly Ginny didn't know what she was talking about. Hermione didn't need any luck tonight; after dinner was over, the alliance would be falling over themselves to convince her to return to one of her old boyfriends. She slipped into her shoes and picked up her bag, then opened the door.

"Hello," said Malfoy. He blinked. "Suddenly all my complaints about how long it took you to answer the door have been rendered silent." He blinked again.

Much to her surprise, Hermione found herself flushing. "I'm sorry about that. I had misplaced my bag," she explained. "Shall we get going? I don't want to be late."

"Late?" he repeated. "What is that supposed to mean?" His forehead creased as though he was trying to figure out what she hadn't told him.

"For our reservation, of course," she said, laughing nervously. She stepped outside and tugged at his hand. "Come on. I'll Apparate us there." Hermione locked the door and then looked around. Seeing that there was no one to notice, she Apparated them to a private spot near the Italian restaurant where she was to meet her family and friends. She dragged him inside before he could think to question her further about what she had planned for the evening. She gave her name to the head waiter, who showed them to her usual table. Hermione held her breath the entire way. She simply just had to get Malfoy to her family's table. Once her friends saw him with her, all she would have to do was sit back and let nature take its course.

"Hello all," she said as they arrived. "Sorry we're late." She was mildly disappointed that neither Harry nor Ron had to be restrained from attacking Malfoy. Oh well. She supposed all boys had to grow up some time.

"Hello Hermione," her mother replied warmly. "And you must be the young man Hermione has told me so much about—"

"Oh yes, introductions. Mum, Dad, this is Draco Malfoy," said Hermione quickly before her mother mentioned Seamus.

"Oh," her mum said shortly. The look her mum shot Hermione told her that she would have a lot of explaining to do later. "Yes…well, Hermione has gone on at length about you over the years as well. It's nice to finally be able to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine," Malfoy said. He pulled out Hermione's chair, letting her sit down first, before taking his own seat. "Might I add that it is obvious from whom Hermione gets her beauty?"

Hermione's mother flushed and giggled at the compliment but a low growl emanated from the man sitting by her side. Her father never liked it when any of the wizards she brought home flattered her mother like that. It was rather disconcerting how both her parents could act so silly and juvenile at times, with her mum acting like a blushing young schoolgirl while her father acted like a jealous teenaged boy.

"There, there," said Ron, patting her dad on the shoulder. "You don't have to worry about this one, Mr. Granger. Hermione's not serious about him." Ron sneered at Malfoy. "He's just a charity case that Hermione picked up along the way, perhaps hoping to scare us all after last night."

Two things happened just then. Hermione's mum shot her dad an icy glare, which had the effect of making him break out in a cold sweat. The second was that Malfoy turned around in his seat, so he faced her as he grabbed both of her hands.

"Darling!" he cried. "I thought you said they would play nice." His lower lip jutted out adorably, tempting Hermione to lean forward to kiss him.

So she did. Malfoy smirked when she finished, letting her hands go, while across the table her friends reached for wands that were no longer there. Little did they know that she had disarmed them before earlier when she was taking her seat, not wanting to risk a wizard's duel in the middle of the crowded restaurant in case things got out of hand. Her father merely shook with fury but his mouth was wired shut. Hermione was going to chalk that up to a small miracle when she noticed the stern look on her mother's face. She grasped that was the reason why the alliance had showed up last night to spoil her dinner with Seamus; her mum must have finally found a threat dire enough to force her father to behave.

Malfoy was prattling on while Hermione was in the midst of her little epiphany. She jumped when he prodded her and then looked expectantly at her. Hermione realized that he must have asked her a question.

"I'm sorry?" she said, hoping he would repeat what he had said.

"No, dearest, there is nothing to be sorry about. It is rare for you to admit that I was right while you were wrong, so I shall savor this rare victory, Pyrrhic though it may be." He shook his head at her. "I told you that you couldn't expect a Weasley to know how to behave properly. There were too many of them running about for their poor mother to have any hope of instilling manners in them."

Ron growled. "At least I wasn't raised to be a murderer," he spat out.

"Neither was I," replied Malfoy, a hint of steel in his voice. "I was a spoiled child, this is true, and given everything I wanted and made to believe that I was better than everyone else. But I was never trained to kill, a fact which led to many sleepless nights for my mother."

"You foul-mouthed, stinking ferret," growled Ron.

"You're lucky that you're not rotting in Azkaban," added Harry.

"For what? Not being a murderer?" Malfoy elegantly lifted one eyebrow as he spoke.

"To save the rest of society from having to deal with filth like you."

That was taking it too far. Hermione wasn't overly fond of Malfoy herself—though his going along with her unspoken plans instead of storming out of there had definitely softened her heart towards him—but he deserved better than that. He didn't spend any time in Azkaban because he had been a minor under duress when he had led the Death Eaters in an attack on Hogwarts. Hermione thought that was the correct decision. Though Malfoy had not receive any formal punishment, his actions after the war implied that he felt some need to make amends. Both Harry and Ron, as Aurors, should know that.

"Having been the target of such comments myself," she grimly told her best friends, "I would appreciate it if you would not echo them against anyone. Particularly not against someone who is responsible for helping many people after the war. You should be better than that." Unexpectedly, Malfoy squeezed her hand as though thanking her for saying that.

Hermione's mum nodded her head and spoke up, "George dear, I believe you promised tonight would be a pleasant evening without any strife." She tilted her head as she regarded Hermione's friends. "And I know both you boys have been taught better than that. What would your mothers say?"

Hermione winced. That was a bit harsh of her mum, who knew perfectly well that Ron thought the world of his mother, and as for Harry, his mum was long dead. But as she watched as her boys flushed and then settled down, she thought that perhaps her mum was right to lace her words with a bit of cruelty. Hermione supposed she had a bad habit of coddling her friends too much, and that she should push them to their limits more, to dare them to become better men.

"Good," said her mum brightly. "Let's skip the wine tonight. I don't think that would be prudent." Everyone complied with that request, and no outbursts occurred while the waiter took their orders. With her mother's help, Hermione was able to get a conversation going with hardly any traces of acrimony. It was astonishing. Between Malfoy being able to give as good as he got and her mum stepping in to rein her father in, Hermione was actually enjoying dinner out with her parents for once. Eating was so much more pleasant when she wasn't sick with worry that her current beau would flee at any moment. She didn't think that her boys would have given up so easily, especially when confronted with Malfoy.

She was right.

After their plates had arrived, a grin spread across Ron's face, and it was not from the food in front of him, as Hermione initially thought. "So Malfoy…I heard that you've been loitering around the Daily Prophet's offices lately? Going to see Nott, have you? I've heard that you two have long enjoyed an especially close relationship." With that, he started winking broadly at Hermione. She was struck with the urge to throw her plate of pasta at him; she knew damn well what he was trying to imply and he looked like a damned fool with something stuck in his eye.

"And how is Seamus?" Harry added, not to be outdone. "He's a good bloke, and I wouldn't mind catching up with him. Haven't heard from him in ages." Hermione could only gawk at her friend's boldfaced lie.

"If that's the case, Potter, you should go ask Nott. He and Finnegan have always had much in common, and they have been spotted together. And Weasley, you should get better sources as it's a well-known fact that I only drop by the Daily Prophet to see Hermione," Malfoy said without missing a beat. Harry coughed awkwardly as Ron sputtered. Hermione felt like cheering Malfoy on.

"Oh that's right!" Harry smacked his hands together as a thought occurred to him. "I forgot to tell you. Oliver Wood is back in town. I thought it might be nice to arrange a re-union of sorts, and I know he would love to see you again."

"No thanks Potter."

"I wasn't speaking to you," Harry stated.

"Obviously, he was talking about Hermione. Oliver's thought the world of her ever since third year."

"Oh that's charming. He was seventeen, and my poor darling was only fourteen. No wonder you were in such a foul mood the entire year, dearest." Malfoy shook his head sadly. "Forgive me, my love, but I hope our daughters are in Slytherin. The wizards there know better."

That remark drew the attention of Hermione's dad. "Daughters?" he screeched. He ignored the elbow his wife shoved into his side. "What makes you think that—"

"That you'll ever let me that close to your daughter?" Malfoy straightened his back as he stared her father down. "With all due respect, sir," he spat out, making the word sound like an epithet, "that's not your decision to make. You should get accustomed to that fact."

"Well put," said Hermione's mum, clapping her hands.

"Thank you Mrs. Granger," replied Malfoy.

"Oh dear, there's no need to be so formal. You can call me Emma, like these boys here." Her mum flapped a hand in Harry and Ron's direction.

The rest of the evening continued in a similar fashion. Hermione and her mum would keep the conversation flowing, with Malfoy throwing in an opinion from time to time, while the rest of their table stewed. Every so often, one of the boys would come up with a new way to either attack Malfoy or try to pry Hermione away from his clutches. Each time, Malfoy would put them in their place without batting an eye. On one hand, Hermione didn't want Malfoy to think that she couldn't control her best friends; if he wasn't there, she would certainly be snapping back at them. On the other hand, it was nice to have someone else deal with the alliance and their towering paranoia. She could get used to this.

And if she really wanted to be honest with herself, she found it rather appealing that Malfoy was able to take care of himself. Seeing a wizard act like a damsel in distress—that wasn't attractive to say the least. Seeing a wizard able to defend himself on his own was an entirely different matter.

Sooner than she thought, dinner was over. Her mum fussed over Malfoy, saying that she hoped to see him again soon, while Harry and Ron stood in the background making gagging noises. Hermione rolled her eyes at their childish antics. Her father hung behind her mother. He shook Malfoy's hand as the two men were saying their good byes, and for a moment, it looked as though he was trying to crush Malfoy's hand in his. Unfortunately for her father, he was not as strong as he thought and Malfoy did not even flinch at his efforts.

Hermione helped Malfoy out when Harry and Ron came up to make their parting comments. She absently twirled a lock of her hair while giving both of them her best try-anything-and-I'll-snap-your-wands-in-two glare. It seemed to work as the two of them did not make any trouble.

Things got awkward after that. Malfoy insisted on accompanying Hermione home in front of everyone, mainly to annoy the hell out of her father and friends, she thought. She silently Apparated them back an empty street near her flat, after tossing Harry and Ron's wands to them at the last possible minute. She did not know what to say to them once they were alone, and an oppressive silence stretched between them. He followed her up the stairs to her flat, the sound of his footsteps behind her making Hermione dreadfully nervous.

"Well here we are," she said anxiously when they reached her front door. She turned around to face him. "I had a lovely time tonight," she said, one hand behind her back groping for the doorknob. She smiled when she found it. "Good night."

With that, she turned the doorknob, planning to rush in and slam the door shut before Malfoy knew what was happening. Unfortunately for her, she had not taken into account that she had locked the door before leaving like she always did. A smug smile appeared on Malfoy's face.

"Looking for this?" he asked, tossing a small key in the air. Her jaw dropped as he hid it away in his robes. "What?" he asked. "Did you think that only Gryffindors knew how to pickpocket?"

"It's not pickpocketing if you use a disarming spell," she replied automatically. It was an excuse she had used countless times before when taking the boys' wands away from them before they could get themselves into trouble.

"I'll have to remember that one," he said. "And no, I won't give it back to you. Not yet anyway. Not until we've had the chance to talk."

"We've been talking all evening," she dissembled. "What's left to talk about?"

"Oh I don't know…I was thinking about talking about how I've never felt this used in my life." He narrowed his eyes, and Hermione gulped. "And I was sorted into Slytherin, love. That's saying a lot."

Embarrassed she looked down at her feet. She started mindlessly twirling her index fingers together as she cleared her throat several times, trying to gather up her courage to speak.

"What's wrong? Cat's got your tongue? Like it did earlier when you forgot to mention who else would be joining us this evening?"

She laughed weakly. "Did I forget to mention that my parents would be there?"

"Ha ha," he replied flatly. "Full marks for effort there, but only a troll for the actual execution. Granger, you shouldn't bother lying. You haven't the first clue how."

She bit her lip, knowing he was right. She was an awful liar. He was also right about her having used him this evening. He deserved an apology for that. She closed her eyes and sighed. She hated having to swallow her pride.

"I'm sorry," she finally said. She remained staring at her shoes, finding that she was unable to stomach the thought of having to look him in the eye and apologize. "It's just that…you see, my father along with Harry and Ron…they're a tad difficult whenever I take any wizard to meet my family. So I thought…I thought it was a brilliant idea, you know? That if I took you, they would go spare and it would work out the way it did. With them almost begging me to go back to one of my old boyfriends."

The sound of mocking applause filled the hallway, startling her into looking up at him. She could tell his jaw was clenched, though the dwindling light that inhabited the corridor softened the lines of his face and the only feature she could make out clearly was the glinting, molten silver of his eyes. His lips twisted upwards when he saw that he now had her full attention. "Brava," he said quietly. "That was an excellent performance. That doesn't address the question, however, that I'm just burning to know the answer to."

She swallowed nervously. "Which is?"

"Are you ready to pay the price for the assistance I provided tonight?"

A shiver ran down her spine as she regarded the wizard standing before her. She should have known that was what he was getting at; he was a Slytherin after all. She stood tall and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't owe you anything," she bit out.

"I beg to differ. Most wizards would expect a witch to comfort them after first meeting her parents. Did you think me any different? Or did you think I'm the sort who got my rocks off torturing small animals?"

She gave him a long look, remembering all the times he had enjoyed taunting her friends.

"Well, I must admit it was fun putting Potter and Weasley in their place," he said after a moment. "But hardly satisfying, if you know what I mean and I am certain you do." He shot a lascivious glance at her through narrowed eyes.

"I'm sorry. You must have been seeing witches of ill repute for far too long. I'm not that sort of witch." She lifted her chin firmly, inwardly cursing the fact that she was so much shorter than him. That did put her at a disadvantage.

"And I'm not that sort of wizard." He shifted his weight from foot to foot as his hands curled into fists at his side. "No, I'm not the sort of wizard who placidly agrees to be trotted out to be inspected by a witch's parents. Before I endure that particular sort of aggravation, I make good and certain to sample the goods first." Reflexively, Hermione uncrossed her arms and raised her right hand to slap the bastard but he caught her arm before she could get even close. He held it for a long moment before letting it go. It dropped down, and she instinctively clutched her right elbow with her left hand.

"I've not hurt you," he said, his words hanging somewhere between being a statement and a question.

"I don't see how that is any of your business," she replied. She summoned up an air of icy indifference. "You have done more than enough this evening. I'll thank you to leave."

He laughed then, a short ugly barking thing. Hermione thought he must have lost it then. That was not the reaction she was anticipating.

Finally, he regained enough control over his laughter to speak once more. "You're no ice queen," he told her. "You pretend very well, and I admit that when I was a boy, I thought you were very much one. But now…" He looked her up and down suggestively. "You breathe too hard to be truly detached, causing your chest to heave in a most pleasant fashion. Keep doing that. I like it. Your eyes flash with heat, and your blood runs hot, not cold. Looking at you like this…it makes me wonder how I was ever fooled."

Before she could formulate a response, he leaned forward and kissed her.

It was a breathtaking kiss; it literally stole her breath away and she pressed forward and kissed him back with all her might, reveling in how marvelous it all felt to be consumed like this. She was a horrible, horrible liar and there was no way she could fool herself into denying this fire raging between them, one that they had gathered the kindling for all throughout their Hogwarts years. She could not lie to herself and pretend that she had never spent any time wondering how things would have been between them if they hadn't always been on opposite sides. All she could do was sigh as his arms came to encircle her waist, coming to rest on her back, and brush her hands throw that lovely hair of his, relishing how much it resembled silk, not bothering to memorize him as it felt as though he was being burned into her. She could barely hear her inner nag hammering away with objections inside her way as they all melted away in the inferno.

It was he who wound up pulling away.

"That was a good start," he whispered in between taking large gasps of air. Their kiss had left him breathless too.

Hermione felt her anger return as she slowly came back to her senses. This time she wasn't upset with him however; she was disappointed in herself for giving in so easily. She could hear her inner nag loud and clear now, and she didn't like what it was saying. She didn't like being a weak and foolish witch prone to giving in to her passions. She would not make that mistake again.

"It was a good end too," she told him.

"No." Though he appeared to have collected himself, his eyes still smoldered as they bore into hers, and she could feel herself rising to his unspoken challenge.

"You took the words out of my mouth," she said mockingly. "No, I am not that sort of witch. That is all you're going to get. I've not seen you in years, Malfoy. I don't know what makes you think—"

"What makes me think that you would give me a chance? Only the words you spoke and the actions you took earlier today," he answered. "I was prepared for it to take longer. Merlin knows that it took me forever to get you to agree to meet with me for a potential story. But I persisted even though it would have been quicker and easier to have gone to Nott. And after our initial tiff, you were so excited and adorable and downright warm to me. Then you asked me out."

He paused for breath, then the words continued to spill out from his lips. "I was shocked, elated. Just as it had taken months for you to agree to meet with me, I thought it would have taken months for you to agree to see me outside of your work. And once we were there, I found that you thought me strong enough to survive meeting your parents and your friends the first night out. Yes you did use me, but it was only because you couldn't find anyone more worthy. It was you, Hermione, who set this fast pace, not I. I would have waited, but you led me on, teasing me into thinking that I had already convinced you to give me a chance with your words and with your deeds." He reached out to cradle her cheek with his hand, his fingers brushing away the tears that had appeared in her eyes. "And I now know that you're not so cold that you would use me then throw me away. These prove that."

She shut her eyes as she enjoyed the warmth of his hand against her face. "I'm sorry," she said again. "But I don't think I owe you anything beyond my thanks."

"I disagree," he said softly. "I think you owe me another chance. But putting that aside… you also owe it to yourself. When are you ever going to find another wizard willing to stand up to those tyrants you call friends? And if you do…what are your chances that he'll make you feel what I can make you feel, what I've already made you feel. Little to none, I would venture."

He was right. There was no getting around that fact. It was highly unlikely she would ever find another wizard as attractive as he who could so handily fend off her friends. So she decided to do the only sensible thing.

She kissed him again.

She knew at once that she had made the right decision. It was better than the first time, and she didn't know how she had gone so long without ever tasting him before. As she ardently explored his mouth with her tongue, she knew that his taste would linger in her mouth for years to come. She wouldn't let it fade. And she didn't think that he would let her go, not with the way he was crushing her to him, holding her so tight that she could hardly breathe, but not nearly tight enough. Her hands fumbled with his robes, wanting to feel him, when her fingertips brushed against cool metal, reminding her of where they stood. She pushed him away.

"I'm sorry," she said, a grin forming on her face. She flashed her key at him, letting him know that she had got it back. "But I'm not that sort of girl." She turned around to open her door and then stepped inside.

Hermione keenly felt the absence of his presence behind her, so she spun on her heels and faced him. The look on his face almost broke her heart. He looked like a little lost boy, as though his favorite dream had been snatched away from him.

She would have to put an end to that.

"Malfoy," she said, letting a bit of exasperation work its way into her voice, "don't tell me you expected me to let you shag me against my front door? What would the neighbors say?" Malfoy now looked confused as he tried to figure out what she was trying to say. "Not to mention, my bedroom is only a few feet away and it's loads more comfortable, not to mention private."

By now he was grinning like a fool, and Hermione was beginning to feel rather impatient with the way he remained standing outside. She stamped her foot. "Well? Are you coming or not?"

That was all the encouragement he needed to leap across the threshold, but it still took a fair amount of time before Hermione received an answer to her last question.

* * *

It was far too early to be up on a Saturday morning but there was no help for it. Ginny and her brothers had promised Molly Weasley ages ago that they would all be present for a family picnic. Harry and Hermione were included as well. Ginny knew that after last night, she would need to console Hermione before the other witch would be up to appearing in public. Even then, depending on how poorly things went, she might have to take Hermione's wand away to make certain she wouldn't throw any hexes around. Ginny supposed she could have got a head start on it all if she had stayed up to wait for Hermione, but past experience had taught her that was a good way—no make that, a very bad way—to stay up the entire night. At least this way she was well rested before having to deal with her flat mate and her frustrations. 

She followed her nose to the kitchen, where someone had evidently already made a pot of tea. Ginny nodded to herself happily; that meant Hermione felt well enough to go about her normal routine at least. She wasn't going to pry the other witch out of bed this time around. She took a breath to ready herself to deal with anything, and then marched into the kitchen.

Where she promptly saw her flat mate Hermione Granger, calmly sharing a plate of toast with Draco Malfoy. Twin smiles lit up their faces as they spoke to one another, not appearing to notice her. She knew that aura of smug contentment that surrounded them and she couldn't believe her eyes.

Ginny fainted dead away.

The crash she made when she fell drew both of their attentions. Hermione quickly got to her feet to make sure that her friend hadn't suffered any serious damage from her fall.

"So Hermione, if she's not going does that mean we get to skip out as well?" asked Draco.

"You're not getting out of accompanying me to the picnic that easily, Malfoy," she told him.

"Blast!" He took a sip of tea. "And here I thought that you made me to suffer enough last night. You're more sadistic than I would have pegged you."

"Don't worry. I'll make it up to you," she promised.

"I'm sure you will."

* * *

**Author's note:** Well, that's that. I hoped you liked it. Please leave me a review to let me know what you thought of it, good and bad. Also I would like to thank hotkat144, panchat, pinkie101, and 0xsammie for reviewing the first chapter. Thanks so much. 


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